


this picturesque place

by lgbtksoo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Swap, Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot Collection, Pool Boy Park Chanyeol, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Spicy Young Widow Do Kyungsoo, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Wall Sex, melanchorny (melancholy + horny)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23736943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbtksoo/pseuds/lgbtksoo
Summary: Falling into bed with Park Chanyeol feels like a mercurial collision of inevitability, an explosion of lust and desire between two people who are far too aware of their instant attraction to each other. Falling in love with Park Chanyeol -- well. That’s another story to tell altogether.(A collaborative AU!Verse with@riendrope.)
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 50
Kudos: 251





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi!!! so some of you may know this, but i think most people don’t -- but i have the lucky privilege to share many aus with my dearest friend rie ([@riendrope](https://twitter.com/riendrope))! most of them exist only in our chatlogs, but are quite lengthy and expansive. however, this is one of the first times _i_ have something to show for it publicly! long story short, the "spicy widow au" (as we affectionately referred to it) is an au with hot widowed kyungsoo (30) and pool boy park chanyeol (26). so yes, fair warning this features a boss/employee relationship! 
> 
> please check out the beautiful comic strip illustrated by rie [here](https://twitter.com/riendrope/status/1251918623129563138)!!!! note that this fic and her strip exist in the same timeline, but we are not writing/drawing the same scenes :)
> 
> this is a one-shot collection with each chapter featuring a fragment of this au. i may be adding new chapters in the future because there's still so much about this narrative that i would love to tell!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a brief introduction to the spicy widow au...

A voice in the back of Kyungsoo’s mind, sounding suspiciously and horribly similar to Baekhyun, accuses him of being utterly shameless right now. If Baekhyun were here, his best friend would cast a shameful look of aspersion at Kyungsoo’s behaviour right now. “For God’s sake, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun would likely hiss, slamming his glass of margarita down on the marble table in a fit of dramatics. “Keep your thighs shut.”

But could you  _ blame  _ Kyungsoo? He’s had nothing but his own hand and a rather impressive collection of toys to entertain him for the past four years. Granted, his own libido lay mostly dormant for the past year, ever since his hus--

Nevermind that.

The fact is this: Do Kyungsoo is a healthy thirty year old man with a working pair of eyes -- as myopic as they are -- and no matter how hard he had initially tried to suppress the several inopportunely-timed fantasies he’s had about him, he has to face the inevitable truth. He has never felt attraction like he has felt around Park Chanyeol.

It hadn’t been anything at first. Kyungsoo knows himself, knows he’s always gotten a little weak-kneed at tall, handsome men who look like they could throw him around with their pinky. But the past year had been -- a lot -- and Kyungsoo wasn’t looking for anything but for his life to settle. 

And after a year of neglect, he finally took one long look at the house and decided that the long-drawn days of isolation and melancholic loneliness had to stop. Baekhyun had suggested that a change of scenery would do. He had probably meant for Kyungsoo to move out of the house, into the woods, become a monk. 

Instead, Kyungsoo took it as advice to finally get his luxurious backyard pool cleaned up. 

It used to be his favourite part of the house; the whitewash wood floors, the stucco walls, the cashmere bed throws, the authentic decorative pillows -- and best of all, the expansive garden that surrounded the heated pool in lush greens and a fresh pine scent. The garden was planted by himself in his first year of marriage, and the project spanned a full two years before he completed it. And for a full year after that, Kyungsoo had been meticulous about maintaining the garden on his own, and would reward himself with a long soak in the heated outdoor tubs to relax his overworked muscles.

But when his husb--

Well. Anyway. There was a year of neglect after that, and Kyungsoo decided to mark his rediscovered ability to move through the house as a person, rather than as an unwilling spectral haunting, with fixing his once-favourite place in the entire plot. Once that was done, then came to the maintenance of the pool.

That’s when he met Park Chanyeol, who had been introduced to him by their head security guard. Apparently, according to Minseok, Chanyeol was a friend of his boyfriend. Jongin, the boyfriend in question, had promised him to be hardworking and ethical even if he had little experience in pool cleaning. 

He was wholly unprepared, then, when Chanyeol had walked into Kyungsoo’s home in a suit so perfectly tailored that he could see the flex of his biceps through the fabric of his button-down, his well-toned physique underneath the blazer. He had --  _ has  _ \-- the most handsome face he has ever seen, and the first time he smiled at him with his  _ dimple _ , Kyungsoo saw it as the first sign of trouble.

The second sign was when Chanyeol had asked if Kyungsoo could give him a tour of the house during the interview, took one look at Kyungsoo trying not to shiver as the brisk air swept a chill into his bones once he brought Chanyeol outside to the backyard pool, and then promptly shrugged his blazer off his own shoulders. Despite his protests, he had carefully wrapped the blazer around Kyungsoo’s slim shoulders with a devastating smile. 

Kyungsoo still remembers how the fabric draped over him, oversized and falling to his knees, smelling entirely of bergamot and something he would learn was intrinsically  _ Chanyeol _ .

The third sign was the worst of them all. It had happened towards the end of the house tour, when Kyungsoo was showing Chanyeol his bedroom. The other man had asked to see it, an innocent sort of curiosity lilting his voice. Chanyeol had taken one look around the spacious room, a short glance at the shelf of his favourite succulents, a longer one at the corner filled with Kyungsoo’s favourite films and records. And then, he had dragged his gaze over to the king-sized bed that took up the centre of the room. The gaze lingered, turned heated, before his eyes slid molten-hot back to Kyungsoo. His mouth was tilted in a stunning smile that curved dangerously at the ends.

“Nice bed,” Chanyeol had commented, his words weighted with suggestion. 

Later, long after Chanyeol had left with one last lingering look, Kyungsoo locked himself in his room with his favourite dildo as he imagined himself being spread open by something thicker and hotter, the flash of a deep dimple and a handsome smile as large hands spreading his thighs wide, powerful thrusts that drove him hard and fast inside of Kyungsoo’s needy body. He came twice that night.

When he had recounted this incident to Baekhyun -- minus the minute details of his fantasies -- his best friend had laughed so hard that he nearly peed himself. “‘Nice bed’?” Baekhyun echoed between snickers of amusement, peering at Kyungsoo over the top of his sunglasses. “That’s what got you so hot and horny over him?” 

It didn’t matter. After that, Kyungsoo slowly came to realize just how much Chanyeol affected him in a way he’s never experienced before. The way it feels like a burning ball of want and need has permanently taken residence in the pit of his stomach whenever he’s around the other man. It renders him dazed, reckless, but most of all -- he feels  _ alive _ again.

He quickly learns, too, how much  _ he _ affects Chanyeol in return. 

Falling into bed with Park Chanyeol feels like a mercurial collision of inevitability, an explosion of lust and desire between two people who are far too aware of their instant attraction to each other. Falling  _ in love _ with Park Chanyeol -- well. That’s another story to tell altogether.


	2. attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this takes place about 2-3 weeks after the introduction, and shortly before rie’s comic strip ([link](https://twitter.com/riendrope/status/1251918623129563138)) takes place. chanyeol and kyungsoo continue to get to know each other...

Kyungsoo sighs, shifting restlessly in the poolside chaise lounge as he places his book down on the cushion. A week ago, Baekhyun had advised him to take up a new hobby -- “you should try reading, seeing how your head keeps wandering into the clouds” -- and needless to say, it has been an uphill battle. Reading has never been his forté -- neither was school -- but the effort required feels like it triples in size whenever Chanyeol is around.

Not that he’s paying attention to him like he usually does, Kyungsoo thinks, a little grouchily. He peers at the other man with a sidelong glance. Chanyeol’s back is to him, but even from behind, the shift and flex of his muscles is a formidable distraction. His swimwear is scant -- scandalous, really, enough to drive Kyungsoo mad. After his second week at work, Chanyeol had abruptly decided to switch from wearing a t-shirt and knee-length shorts, to wearing  _ only _ a Speedo.

Kyungsoo’s mouth feels dry as he watches Chanyeol work. His shoulders are broad, and when he pads around the bend of the pool so that he’s facing Kyungsoo instead, his eyes can’t help but trace along the strong chest that he wishes he could fling himself against. All tan skin, hard edges, and biceps almost as thick as Kyungsoo’s entire body. His eyes drift down. And, probably, a massive co--

He shakes the thought out of his head. The Speedo doesn’t leave much for imagination.

Today, Chanyeol’s testing the pool chemicals. He had asked Kyungsoo not to enter the water that afternoon until the chemistry of the water had been re-adjusted to appropriate levels. There’s a whole other type of  _ chemistry _ he personally thinks they could be working on, but no one asked  _ him _ . 

Maybe he shouldn’t have listened to Baekhyun. Kyungsoo glances down at himself, flushing a little when he realizes his robe has untied itself and you could now see how much his shorts have ridden up, exposing the smooth line of his legs and the curve of his thighs. They had been a nuptial gift from Baekhyun from four years ago. As a joke, because his husband and him were not like  _ that _ \-- and never were, to the end. But he had kept it untouched in his closet, until this weekend, when Baekhyun fished it out and presented it to him with a triumphant look in his face. 

“Fight fire with fire,” Baekhyun had said. “Be bold.”

The words were more fitting for war, perhaps, or a revolutionary movement -- but what was this, with the way Chanyeol steps into his space, brushing his hands along Kyungsoo’s heated skin, teasing only to pull back at the last touch -- if not a fight, a battle, on its own. 

His heart feels like it has been set on fire since their first meeting. That, Kyungsoo knows for certain.

He shifts again, stretching his arms out above his head. The radiant warmth from the summer sun is pleasant on his skin. A sudden thought enters his mind, the faded memory of an older executive at the studio who had once complimented Kyungsoo on the fairness of his skin. “Boys like you should take care of your complexion,” he had said, sliding an arm along the small of Kyungsoo’s back. 

Kyungsoo had nearly forgotten about it, left only with the lingering disgust that had kept him from returning to the studio ever since, and the staunch refusal to uphold such beauty standards thereafter. Back then, when he was still alive, his husband had never asked -- always relatively respectful of his privacy -- and he never told. But now, Kyungsoo has been asked to return to the studio in the following week. Despite it being over a year now, apparently some belongings of his late husband’s need to be rifled through and packed up. God forbid he runs into that man again. He’ll have to let Minseok know. 

Still, the executive’s words feel like a stain, one that Kyungsoo wants to scrub from his skin. A glance at Chanyeol shows that the other man still isn’t looking at him, and Kyungsoo suddenly feels silly in his get-up. Maybe he’s been reading the signals all wrong. 

With another heavy sigh, he decides to bathe in the sun and let the rays warm up his skin. Kyungsoo shrugs the thin cotton muslin robe off his shoulders, letting it pool around his waist before he folds it neatly into the woven hamper underneath the lounge chair. He frowns when he sees the pouch of softness on his tummy, wonders distantly if maybe that could be putting Chanyeol off, before he shoves the insidious thought away. He turns onto his stomach. Resting his cheek on his arms, Kyungsoo turns his face to the side and his eyes flutter shut.

Kyungsoo lets himself sink into the soft warmth on the chaise lounge, basking in the hum of the summer air. The quiet sound of Chanyeol cleaning the pool is comforting, despite his earlier misgivings, and the rhythmic pace lulls him into a doze.

He doesn’t how long he dozes off, until the sound of Chanyeol speaking rouses him. “You’ll get a sunburn like that,” says Chanyeol, disrupting the silence. His voice comes closer than Kyungsoo had expected, and he startles awake. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes blink open, and he tilts his head up, flushing when he sees Chanyeol looming above him. He hadn’t heard him move. His tall figure casts a shadow over him. “Here.” Chanyeol holds out his hand, clutched around a bottle of sunscreen that looks miniscule in his grasp. 

His heartbeat sounds thunderously loud, beating rapidly against his chest as he meets Chanyeol’s gaze. Slowly, he reaches out for the bottle, their fingers grazing as he takes the bottle from the other man. 

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo mutters. He rolls back until he’s lying chest up again, and then pulls himself into a sitting position. His cheeks heat when Chanyeol’s gaze grows darker, his eyes flitting down from Kyungsoo’s face to his body, dragging down his chest and his exposed legs, before his gaze slides up again. 

Chanyeol smiles, his dimple deepening. “You’re welcome,” he drawls out. “Kyungsoo- _ hyung _ .”

In his second week of work, the same week that he seemingly changed his work uniform, Chanyeol had turned to him and asked Kyungsoo for his age. It had taken Kyungsoo aback, though it was a question he received more than he ever appreciated.

“I’m 30,” Kyungsoo had responded, for once, feeling curiosity rather than offense. “Why?”

A slow smile spread on Chanyeol’s face. “Oh, so you’re only four years older than me,” he said instead. It made Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise --  _ only _ four years? But before he could ask, the smile grew wider. “Can I call you hyung, then?”

It wasn’t a question he had expected, especially from someone he didn’t know. The honorific was typically reserved for relationships much more casual than theirs -- and while Kyungsoo could hardly say he held any power in the household even after his husband’s passing, he was still technically Chanyeol’s employer. To be asked, as nonchalantly as Chanyeol had, was an absolute breach of social etiquette.

Maybe he was caught off guard, too startled to respond with propriety, or maybe Kyungsoo had been craving for the falseness of intimacy that Chanyeol invited. Maybe something about the honorific felt like it diminished the gap between them. But he agreed. 

Ever since then, the casual use of the term makes Kyungsoo’s heart beat faster, as his nerves tingle with-- excitement, curiosity. 

Kyungsoo snaps out of his thoughts, feeling suddenly aware of Chanyeol’s eyes on him. He tries to play it off, turns his attention back to the bottle of sunscreen, popping the lid open with a snap. He squeezes a generous amount onto the centre of his palm. With his other hand, he dips his finger into the cold cream, before dotting it along his arms and his chest. 

He smooths his hands along his skin, rubbing the sunscreen on in fluid motions. His cheeks are red and heated, self-conscious of the way Chanyeol is still watching him. He wonders what he thinks of him, wonders what he sees when he looks at Kyungsoo. Does he think he’s being too obvious? Does he mind that Kyungsoo has taken off his robe, one of his last remaining armour against the open air? Does he mind the way his tiny shorts reveal his plush thighs, spread out and splayed on the chaise lounge?

Kyungsoo’s hands brush down his chest, grazing past his nipples, sliding down to smear the sunscreen into his soft belly. His hand moves maybe an inch before Chanyeol’s massive hand suddenly wraps around his wrist, halting his movements. Kyungsoo’s heart leaps into his throat. Stilling at the touch, Kyungsoo peers up at Chanyeol with a confused twist to his lips.

“Let me help you,” Chanyeol says, his deep voice sending a shiver down his spine. 

It takes a second for his words to register. “What?” Kyungsoo asks, blinking up at Chanyeol in confusion. His hand is still wrapped around his wrist, the touch of skin on skin, heated and distracting.

Chanyeol lets go of him, and the loss of heat is as if the fog lifts from his brain. But then, he takes another step closer until there are only scant inches between. It takes all of Kyungsoo’s willpower not to look down, his line of sight now perfectly aligned with Chanyeol’s crotch.

“Let me help you,” Chanyeol repeats, his voice a sultry rumble. “Lay down. Roll onto your front for me,  _ hyung _ .”

Kyungsoo feels the heat crawling from the tip of his ears and down his face, a deep blush blossoming on his cheeks. The sound of Chanyeol’s voice renders him speechless, helpless to anything but to abide. He rolls over, settling back onto his stomach with his arms folded to support his head. Anticipation rolls in his nerves. Being in such a vulnerable position in front of Chanyeol makes him want to squirm.

He hears the tell-tale snick of the sunscreen popping open, and then that big, big hand is moving up his bare back. The cold sensation of the sunscreen pulls a gasp from his lips, but when Chanyeol’s fingertips press into his shoulder blades, rubbing small circles along his heated skin, Kyungsoo finds himself gasping for an entirely different reason. 

If he had any reasonable doubt that Chanyeol wouldn’t be good with his hands, they all dissipate now. Those long, thick fingers continue moving across his shoulders and down his back. Chanyeol pauses for a second, only to squeeze more sunscreen onto his palms, before he continues his journey down Kyungsoo’s back, sliding up his spine with a firm touch, and back down again. Time seems to pass by slowly, excruciatingly slowly, as his hands rub circles lower, and lower, and lower. 

It feels amazing. Chanyeol’s touch is a tangible warmth, one that has Kyungsoo swallowing hard and squeezing his eyes shut. Kyungsoo thinks that if Chanyeol stretches his fingers out, he could fit his hand across the span of his back.

Kyungsoo lets out a gasp when his hands travel even lower, caressing Kyungsoo’s hips. He only gets a moment to feel self-conscious of his love handles before Chanyeol brushes across the top of his shorts, right where the swell of his ass starts. Kyungsoo arches under the touch, unable to help himself. 

The other man pauses for a moment. Suddenly, the air between them feels heated and tense, palpably taut in the open air. Kyungsoo freezes, feeling his cheeks redden further; he’s afraid, suddenly, of whether he’s being too _much_ \--

Then Chanyeol’s hands lift up and off his skin. For a moment, he thinks maybe he’s scared him off -- but then Kyungsoo hears the snap of the lid once more -- and when his hands return, they land on his thighs. They resume the slow, circular motions as Chanyeol’s thumbs press into his soft skin, gliding up and down his legs. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Chanyeol slides his hands higher and higher, skirting closer to the delicate skin of Kyungsoo’s inner thighs. His mouth hangs open on a silent moan at the touch. His thighs have always been sensitive, and he feels hyper-aware of it now as Chanyeol’s teasing ministrations leaves him in want. 

This is how it’s been with Chanyeol -- with the  _ ‘hyung’ _ , the Speedo, the heated touches against his skin whenever Kyungsoo’s out by the pool. The other day, Chanyeol had pressed him up against his back while Kyungsoo had raised up on his tiptoes to grab him a glass of water, his broad chest crowding close behind him. He could’ve sworn, then, that Chanyeol would take him as he wished he would -- but he didn’t. 

The past month of knowing Chanyeol has been a trial of push and pull, the other man teasing him, reeling him in, leaving Kyungsoo wanting to splay himself open for his taking. 

Chanyeol’s touches are even bolder today. Each drag of his finger sends sparks of delicious pleasure up his spine. Kyungsoo can hear his own breathing quicken, knows that he’s not the only one affected when Chanyeol’s hands inch higher, and higher, until they’re sliding up underneath his shorts, his thumbs grazing just along the globes of Kyungsoo’s ass. 

Kyungsoo shudders, his cock swelling in his shorts at the touch, and he resists the urge to roll his hips into Chanyeol’s touch. He wishes Chanyeol would touch him more, feels a desperate puff of air leaving his lungs at how good it feels to have his hands on him, hot and heavy against his skin. His face burns as he subtly arches his hips back, a silent plea for Chanyeol to just touch him, to slip his long, long fingers down the cleft of his ass where he’s tight and hot, just for Chanyeol. He wishes he could see the expression on Chanyeol face, wants to know if this is what  _ he _ wants, if this is what he’s intending to do--

His hands slide back down, coming to rest on his thighs again. Kyungsoo has to hide his face, biting down on the meat of his forearm as he resists the urge to whimper in disappointment.

“Cute,” he hears Chanyeol murmur, and then, as if to punctuate his words, his hands wrap around his thigh, easily holding the fullness of them in his grasp, and squeezes tight. This time, Kyungsoo can’t hold back his startled moan, a wave of arousal pulsing through his cock at the touch. His body feels like it’s on fire, his nerves on edge.

So lost in the sensations of Chanyeol’s touch, Kyungsoo almost doesn’t hear the soft creak of the patio doors opening, and then the startled sound of the housekeeper. Chanyeol’s hands abruptly jerk off of him as the other man moves away on instinct. “Oh, I’m-- sorry!” he hears Donghae say, the housekeeper sounding flustered. “I’m--” And then the door closes again, as the housekeeper escapes back inside.


	3. magnitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this takes place about 3 months after the first chapter in this collection! a slowly shifting relationship...

There are certain moments in his life where it occurs to Kyungsoo whether it’s all worth enduring. 

The thought passed through his mind the most often when he was 25 and had still been waiting tables at  _ The Pink Rhonda _ ; long, back-aching hours on his feet, horrible customers who would, sometimes, quite literally spit on him. His boss had spent a year overseas as a teenager and was convinced the English name perfectly encapsulated the retro diner nostalgia he was aiming for -- nevermind it being a borrowed aesthetic. But it seemed to work, much of the U.S. military base stationed nearby seemed to like their food especially after late nights out. 

Kyungsoo still avoids Itaewon at night to this day. 

Today had felt like one of those days -- the same back-aching exhaustion that leaves him blistered and depleted. There was a Board of Directors meeting, and as the last remaining  _ kin _ of the late Executive Director, Kyungsoo had to attend. Even now, as he grabs a glass of water in his kitchen, finally home, he feels the residual fatigue from the Board’s veneer of placidity and poorly hidden condescension.

Kyungsoo yawns and gets to his feet, quickly washing the glass to put away in the dishrack. A quick glance at the clock shows that it’s just past 7 in the evening. It explains why he hasn’t run into any of their staff yet -- they’re probably relaxing in their rooms, or have gone out for the night. He wonders if Chanyeol is still there, and feels his heart beat just a little quicker at thought. The other man had requested for a later shift for this week.

As if hearing his thoughts, he hears the sliding of the glass door, and heavy footsteps padding through the house. “Kyungsoo, is that you?” Chanyeol’s deep voice calls out. 

He had heard Donghae reprimanding Chanyeol once, a few weeks ago, for being impetuous enough to drop the honourific from Kyungsoo’s name entirely. It was embarrassing to have to tell his housekeeper that he didn’t mind -- even if he didn’t say that he found it attractive -- he knew he wasn’t subtle when his response drew a judgmental stare from Donghae. 

“Here,” Kyungsoo responds, his footsteps speeding up to match the quickening of his heart rate as he heads out of the room to meet Chanyeol. 

His heart flips in his chest when he sees Chanyeol in the living room, moving through his home as naturally as he breathes, clearly on his way to the kitchen. He’s wearing a hoodie with his sleeves rolled up, loosely zipped up just high enough that Kyungsoo can’t see his gorgeous abs, but low enough that he’s clearly shirtless underneath. His work must be finished because he’s wearing a pair of shorts rather than swimwear. The taller man pauses, and then breaks into a toothy grin, a little wider and goofier than he used to when they had first met. There’s a softness, now, that wasn’t there before. Kyungsoo finds himself liking this smile more. 

“Hey,” he says, greeting Kyungsoo. The light of the sunset streams in through the glass patio door behind him, his skin nearly glowing in the wash of the orange-amber hues. His breath catches in his throat, just like it alway does when he sees Chanyeol lately. 

Kyungsoo bites down on his own answering smile, peering up at Chanyeol through his lashes. “Hi. Heading home now?” he asks. Taking a step closer, he slides a hand along Chanyeol’s thick forearm. He delights in the way Chanyeol visibly gulps, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Chanyeol only works once a week at their house, but Kyungsoo’s been seeing him for that one day consistently since he’s started. Today’s the first time that Kyungsoo hasn’t been around, and it feels like there’s an itch under his skin that he can’t quite scratch. 

His eyes flit to the clock before they meet Kyungsoo’s gaze again. There’s a mischievous glimmer in those brown eyes, even as a low-burn of heat simmers underneath. Kyungsoo’s taken aback when Chanyeol says, “Not yet. I have something to show you.” 

He wraps his hand around Kyungsoo’s wrist, tugging him in the direction of the patio door. A shiver of excitement runs up Kyungsoo’s spine. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on the way Chanyeol’s hand seems to dwarf him, his fingers easily touching each other. No matter how many times Kyungsoo has felt Chanyeol’s hands on him by now, it doesn’t stop the stirring of interest within his belly. 

Kyungsoo is led back out the patio door, shivering slightly from the cool evening breeze. He’s clearly being led to the pool, entirely too familiar with the path that he helped design when it was being built. But it’s not until they round the corner of the cozy barbeque area that Kyungsoo realizes why Chanyeol had taken him there.

Just a few steps away from the water, Chanyeol had neatly laid out a white square cloth on the deck tiles. Two empty wine glasses sit on top of the cloth, and in the centre, a single wine bottle. The centrepiece is a large wax candle, its warm glow illuminating the small setup. On either side of the cloth are two throw pillows. Aside from the pillows, which Kyungsoo recognizes as belonging to the pool chaise lounges, none of the items look familiar to him. Chanyeol must have brought them here from his own home.

The taller man, who had been studying his face for his reaction, breaks into a wider smile when Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, a tiny noise of surprise escaping from him. “Do you like it? Jongdae was gifted a bunch of candles from his staff party. I thought I would make better use of it,” he says, looking satisfied with himself.

Kyungsoo drags his eyes away from the setup. Amazed, he looks back up at Chanyeol, craning his neck to do so. “What for?” he asks. 

Chanyeol shrugs. “Just thought it’d be nice,” he says nonchalantly, his eyes sliding away from Kyungsoo’s for a moment. Then, after a brief pause, he looks back. His smile is smaller now, but no less genuine. “C’mon, let’s sit. I promise I cleaned the tiles today. Your cushions won’t get dirty.”

There’s a loud thumping in his ears that he recognizes as his own heartbeat. For a second, Kyungsoo can only stare at him. He takes in the sight of Chanyeol with his small, slightly crooked grin. When he had first met him, nearly three months ago now, Kyungsoo had thought he seemed dangerous. Like his touch would be sear, would burn Kyungsoo if he got too close. Now, with his silly too-big ears and sweat-mussed hair, with his sun-kissed skin nearly glowing golden with the sinking sun; now, with this gesture of kindness, of simply doing something because you think someone would like it. And to do it  _ for _ Kyungsoo -- who, to most people, is just the scandalously too-young widow of the too-old Executive Director of a large music conglomerate -- and Kyungsoo thinks that, maybe, Chanyeol could keep him warm. 

But he says none of that, tamps it down and suppresses it until the thought barely lingers as an imprint on his mind. Because even if Kyungsoo’s attraction to him is magnetic, and Chanyeol has gotten to know his body more than anyone else ever had, they’re -- they’re nothing more than friends who  _ fuck _ in the most vulgar sense of the word. And even the nomenclature of  _ friends  _ would be considered generous. 

In the end, he’s still Do Kyungsoo, the former waiter at  _ The Pink Rhonda _ , the scandalously too-young widow of an too-old man, and the employer of Park Chanyeol, the pool boy.

“Kyungsoo-hyung?” Chanyeol says, his voice lilting into a question. He sounds concerned, and the tone of it snaps Kyungsoo out of his thoughts. The taller man is staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, still standing in waiting.

He focuses on the curve of Chanyeol’s lips instead, and the way the light dances off his cheekbones. Abruptly, Kyungsoo doesn’t know if he can look at Chanyeol any longer. Doesn’t know if he can sit across from him, a candle-lit wine date between them. “I want to dip my feet in the water,” he announces suddenly. Then, without pause, he marches up to the edge of the pool, and slides his pants down to reveal his smooth legs. He hears Chanyeol choke out a noise, a bitten-off sound, and he has to hide his smile by folding the pants neatly to set aside. 

Kyungsoo turns back, satisfied at the darkened look in Chanyeol’s eyes, even as he wills away the burning heat of embarrassment he feels in the tip of his ears. “Well?” he asks archly, before he sits down in only his boxer-briefs and the neatly-pressed collared shirt he wore to the meeting. He lets his legs dangle freely in the water.

There’s a brief, almost negligible pause before Chanyeol folds himself next to Kyungsoo, his much longer legs dipping into the water with a splash. He has to roll his shorts up a little to avoid soaking them, and Kyungsoo is shameless enough to recognize his own disappointment that Chanyeol didn’t just take them off entirely.

For a moment, they sit side-by-side and shoulder-to-shoulder in silence. Kyungsoo swings his legs with a soft humming under his breath, the buoyancy of the water keeping his movements slow and languid. After a moment, Chanyeol mimics his movement as if following an unheard beat, playfully kicking through the water so that he can splash Kyungsoo. It draws a smile to his face. At times like this, with the summer air stretched out between them, Kyungsoo feels like these moments could last forever.

But they don’t. Kyungsoo knows they don’t. 

Suddenly, he feels the weight of Chanyeol’s gaze resting on him. It draws his attention -- but Chanyeol always does -- and he looks up, his breath catching at the sight of Chanyeol’s face. There’s something heavy in his eyes, a glimmer of  _ something _ incommunicable that steals the air from his lungs. 

It’s Chanyeol who breaks the silence first. “Should I pour us some wine?” he asks quietly, but his eyes are no longer meeting Kyungsoo’s, sliding down the slope of Kyungsoo’s face until they fall on his lips. Kyungsoo runs his tongue over his bottom lip, quick and fleeting, watches as Chanyeol tracks the movement. Then, the taller man leans closer. “Kyungsoo-hyung,” he murmurs, low and sultry.

How Chanyeol breathes out his name makes his skin prickle with desire, a pleasant chill rising up his spine. Kyungsoo swallows as heat pools between his legs at the beautiful smoulder in Chanyeol’s dark brown eyes. A long and heavy exhalation of air escapes from him, his heart hammering out a staccato beat that he swears must be loud enough for Chanyeol to pick up.

Kyungsoo surges forward, drawing a small startled noise from Chanyeol as he swings his legs over the taller man’s lap and straddles him. Chanyeol’s hands automatically fall on his waist, tugging him closer as if the only answer to having Kyungsoo there with him is to touch him, pull him close until the distance between them is reduced to scant inches. 

Chanyeol studies him. There’s an uncharacteristically serious look on his face, but it falls when Kyungsoo presses forward until their faces are closer together. A wry smile flashes on Chanyeol’s face. “No wine then, I’m guessing,” he murmurs, but his eyes are glued to Kyungsoo’s lips. And then-- Chanyeol’s mouth is on his, urgent and frantic, messy like it always is between the two of them. There’s no romance to the kiss, Kyungsoo thinks as his heart skips a beat, there can’t be. There shouldn’t be --  _ isn’t --  _ anything but pure heat and want in their first kiss, and their second, and their third, and every kiss that followed afterwards.

Still, he can’t get enough of it. It feels like he’s been waiting for this ever since the day started, or maybe for the full week now. Kyungsoo winds his arms around Chanyeol’s neck, reeling him in closer as he shifts on his lap, as the tense night air turns heavy and heady. 

The kiss turns open-mouthed as Kyungsoo sucks on Chanyeol’s tongue, small noises falling from his lips as he lets his hands wander. They slide down to rest on Chanyeol’s broad shoulders, then down to feel up his strong and sculpted chest, before he snakes them underneath his hoodie to rest on his abdomen. He fucking loves Chanyeol’s abs, they drive him crazy, and he rolls his hips languidly against Chanyeol, pulling a low moan from the other man. The sound of it sends a frisson of heat down Kyungsoo’s spine. He can feel Chanyeol’s erection rubbing against his own.

When they pull apart, Kyungsoo knows his lips are cherry-red and swollen. He must look debauched just from one kiss, his cheeks a feverish-warm. Chanyeol always has this effect on him. It’s addicting, the surge of electricity he feels around the other man.

Chanyeol’s eyes have gone half-lidded, and the way he looks at Kyungsoo makes his heart beat faster. “God,” Chanyeol says, low and heart-felt. “God, Kyungsoo--” the  _ hyung _ falls away unnoticed; Chanyeol is kissing him again, unforgiving and bruising, as if every last breath is being poured into Kyungsoo. His hand fists Kyungsoo’s hair, holding him in place. And Kyungsoo, he can’t help but open his mouth for more, can’t help but drink in Chanyeol where he can as he pushes his hips closer, harder. 

Hands fumble across his chest, and Chanyeol breaks the kiss to divert his attention to work the buttons open on Kyungsoo’s shirt. Kyungsoo takes advantage of his distraction to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the perfect slope of Chanyeol’s jawline, sucking bruising kisses along his neck and collarbone. 

“God,” Chanyeol whispers again once he’s unbuttoned Kyungsoo’s shirt and pushes it off his slender shoulders until it’s bundled around his elbows. “Look at you,” he murmurs appreciatively, thumbing at Kyungsoo’s nipples. Just the brush of Chanyeol’s calloused thumb makes him moan, squirming in Chanyeol’s lap. He had never cared much for nipple play before, but he’s learned over the past few months just how much Chanyeol loves paying attention to them. The first time they slept together, Chanyeol had mouthed over his cotton muslin robe until his nipples were sensitive and puffy, peaking through the thin fabric. It’s like he’s hard-wired for Chanyeol’s attention, even the slightest friction is enough to set him off now. 

Shifting his grip on Kyungsoo, he angles his head down to press a kiss on Kyungsoo’s chest, just above his fluttering heart, and then he latches on, taking the sensitive nub between his teeth and tugging gently. Kyungsoo’s eyes fly wide open as he tosses his head in a moan, his arms automatically flying up to cling to Chanyeol’s arms. His hands don’t even wrap half-way around his biceps, and it makes Kyungsoo shudder, thighs squeezing tighter around Chanyeol’s waist. 

It draws an interested noise from Chanyeol. His grip tightens around Kyungsoo as he laves over his nipples, alternating between teasing with his teeth and his tongue. It sends shivers of pleasure up Kyungsoo’s spine, a white-hot curl of delicious heat as he rocks down on Chanyeol’s lap. “C’mon, c’mon,” Kyungsoo moans, arching up against him. “Fuck me-- _ ah _ \--” He lets out a whine when Chanyeol grinds forward against him, with obvious intent. 

Chanyeol finds his mouth again, running over his bottom lip before licking in, wet and messy and obscene. Kyungsoo moans around his tongue, gasping, rolling his hips harder. His hands roam all over Chanyeol’s body, all muscles and hard planes. “Chanyeol,” he says, a little impatiently, when they break apart as he grinds his ass back on Chanyeol’s cock. 

Even through the layers of shorts and underwear, Kyungsoo can feel how hard Chanyeol is for him. He wants to get him out of those pants, wants to feel just how big Chanyeol’s cock is against his bare skin. His mouth waters as he remembers how thick he is, nestled between Kyungsoo’s globes and pressed up against the cleft of his ass. Chanyeol has a cock worthy of worship -- and he’s done just that, the previous week, spent so much time on his knees, just mouthing along the length of Chanyeol’s cock, rubbing his precum over his lips and cheeks, sucking just under the glans, until his knees were bruised and his jaw was sore from the throatfucking he had begged for. 

The small wanton noise he lets out seems to spur Chanyeol on, and his hand caresses down Kyungsoo’s front. Chanyeol pinches his nipples in passing, and Kyungsoo can feel him smiling against his lips when it pulls an increasingly needy sound from Kyungsoo. He’s just about to protest when Chanyeol’s hand dips underneath the waistband of his underwear to palm at his hard length. 

“Ah, f-fuck,” Kyungsoo gasps out breathlessly, his eyes glazing over with pleasure. His chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as he arches into the touch, a hot heat ripping through his body. His mouth falls open in a pant when Chanyeol pushes his hips forward harder. He doesn’t know whether he wants to chase after the hot touch of Chanyeol’s hand on his cock, or after the delicious pressure of Chanyeol’s length snug between the globes after his ass. 

He doesn’t have to choose, not when Chanyeol’s hand lifts up from his cock and sneaks down the back of his underwear. The movements are restricted, but it hardly matters when Kyungsoo feels Chanyeol’s finger trailing down the cleft of his ass. He lifts up on his knees slightly, just enough to give Chanyeol room to press against his perineum before he’s circling his rim with a teasing, barely-there touch. 

When all Chanyeol does is press the tip of his finger against his entrance, dipping in just briefly before pulling back out, Kyungsoo hands fly up to twist his fingers in Chanyeol’s hair.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo moans, trying to sound admonishing, but all he sounds is desperate as he ruts back. When Chanyeol grabs a handful of Kyungsoo’s ass, squeezing tight and he can’t help the moan that chokes out, unbidden, at how large Chanyeol’s hands are, easily holding him open with one hand. His toes curl when Chanyeol does it again, petting his fingers in soft teasing circles around his sensitive entrance, but not quite slipping in where Kyungsoo wants it most.

“Chanyeo-- _ ah _ ,” Kyungsoo hitches out between moans, his hips shuddering as Chanyeol presses syrupy hot kisses against his neck while his long fingers flirt with his entrance. His nails drag down Chanyeol’s back, catching on the fabric of his hoodie. “Chanyeol, sto-- _ ah _ , stop teasing.” He writhes on his lap, eyes fluttering shut when Chanyeol presses a dry finger against his entrance again, panting when he feels it dip in for the briefest of seconds, before pulling back out to stroke the silken skin of his rim. Kyungsoo can feel Chanyeol’s smirk pressed against his skin, and something in him  _ snaps _ \--

Kyungsoo pulls back suddenly, and Chanyeol reacts instantly, his hand pulling out from Kyungsoo’s underwear to fall by his side, as if worried that he had hurt him. A look of stricken concern flashing on his face. “Are you oka--” Chanyeol begins to ask, but he’s not given the chance to finish his sentence when Kyungsoo climbs off of his lap in one smooth motion. 

“My bedroom,” Kyungsoo demands, the white-hot pulse of desire still thrumming low in his belly. His unbuttoned shirt slips down past his elbows, his chest is heaving, pink, and his face is flushed. Distantly, Kyungsoo is aware of how obscenely mussed he must look, and it only spurs him on. He feels nearly mad with how turned on he is, how much he wants Chanyeol. “Please,” he says, because he may not have been raised by a family, but he’s learned his manners nonetheless. “I need you inside me.”

Chanyeol’s eyes darken at his words. Kyungsoo reaches down, stroking one hand suggestively along Chanyeol’s forearm, before reaching his hand. Wrapping his fingers around Chanyeol’s thumb, he tugs on his hand. “Bedroom,” he insists.

He doesn’t need any more coaxing. Chanyeol rises to his feet, quickly blowing out the candle before letting himself be led by Kyungsoo back toward the house. A passing thought to dress himself properly crosses his mind, lest they run into any of the other staff, but Kyungsoo gets distracted when Chanyeol prowls close behind him, hands clutching his waist possessively.

They round the bend of the house and the glass patio doors come into view. The curtains are drawn fully open, just like he had left it this morning. Despite the dim lighting, Kyungsoo can see clearly into his house, seemingly empty with no one else in sight.  _ Good _ , Kyungsoo thinks, catching a glimpse of their reflection in the glass once they are right in front of the door. His shirt is barely on him, his rosy nipples erect after Chanyeol’s teasing and the brush of the night air. The hard line of his cock is obvious in his underwear, and he feels another pulse at heat when he notices the way Chanyeol is fitted against him, his big hands slotted on his waist as his much larger body brackets him from behind. He’s not fit to be seen by anyone but Chanyeol right now.

Chanyeol seems to notice too, if the tightening of his hands is anything to go by. “Shit, look at you,” he breathes out, bending down until he can mouth at Kyungsoo’s exposed shoulder. He pushes against him, grinding hard, deliberately, so that Kyungsoo can feel Chanyeol’s cock straining hard in his pants. He’s standing so close to Kyungsoo, his body emanates a warmth that Kyungsoo wants to drown himself in. Chanyeol meets his gaze in the reflection of the glass, dark and heady, biting into delicate skin around his neck as one hand dips past Kyungsoo’s waistband to palm at his cock. Kyungsoo’s knees tremble as he throws his head back in a gasp, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the moan that threatens to escape when Chanyeol rubs his thumb over the leaking slit of his length. 

“Look at how hungry you are for my cock, hyung,” Chanyeol murmurs, peppering soft kisses to the side of Kyungsoo’s face, his eyes not leaving their reflection for a second. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” He punctuates his words with a sharp twist of his wrist, exactly how Kyungsoo likes it. He arches his back, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the glass doors as Chanyeol pushes him against the cool surface. 

Chanyeol rocks his hips. “Tell me, hyung,” he murmurs, his other hand sliding up to trace Kyungsoo’s lip with his thumb. The callous on his finger drags against the head of his cock where he’s steadily leaking precum, staining his underwear. Little gasps of pleasure fall from his mouth as he bucks into Chanyeol’s hand. “Tell me you’re this good only for me,” he rumbles. His hands still on his length, eliciting a whine from Kyungsoo.

“Y-- _ ah _ \--yes,” Kyungsoo moans. His thighs quake -- from Chanyeol’s words, the heat from his body, his hands. “Yes,  _ yes _ , only you--” 

And then Chanyeol moves away from him, and Kyungsoo can’t help the confused and hurt whine from the sudden loss of heat. But Chanyeol’s only hurriedly shucking off his pants and underwear, then tugging off his hoodie, leaving a pile of clothes carelessly discarded on the ground. He does the same for Kyungsoo, kneeling down to help Kyungsoo step through the fabric. The shirt is left draped around his arms, barely on him as it is. 

For a moment, Kyungsoo lets himself get distracted by Chanyeol’s cock, big, just like the rest of him. Thick and long, perfectly heavy on his tongue and drives him insane when it’s inside of him. He turns around so that he’s facing Chanyeol instead, pressing himself against him as he wraps his hand around Chanyeol’s erect length. Chanyeol lets out a hiss of pleasure as Kyungsoo strokes his cock. 

“Wait,” Chanyeol gasps out, huffing out a small laugh when Kyungsoo shoots him another glare. He grabs his shorts from the floor, and then pulls out a small packet of lube and a condom from the back pocket. A part of Kyungsoo can’t help but feel satisfied at the way Chanyeol was prepared for this, for him.

He steps back into Kyungsoo’s space, his hands falling to grip at Kyungsoo’s waist as he grinds against him, skin to skin. A shuddering pleasure runs up and down Kyungsoo’s spine, his knees weak at the way Chanyeol’s body covers him entirely. 

Chanyeol’s hand slips under one of Kyungsoo’s thighs, lifting his leg to wrap it around his waist, pressing him against the cold pane of glass behind him. His eyes are dark and intense, and even in the dim lighting, Kyungsoo can see the way his pupils are blown wide open. “You’re so pretty,” Chanyeol murmurs, and then his finger trails down to rub teasingly at Kyungsoo’s entrance. 

“W-What if someone,  _ ah _ , what if someone sees?” he gasps out, his voice tapering off into a moan. They haven't even made it inside. The thought of getting caught with Chanyeol’s huge cock inside of him sends a hot shiver down his spine. Every fibre of his body throbs with need. His arms loop around Chanyeol’s shoulders, arching into the touch. 

Chanyeol studies him, his gaze intent. “You like that, hyung?” he asks. “Like the idea of everyone seeing you hanging off my cock?“ And Kyungsoo can only moan, sharp and high-pitched.

For a brief second, Chanyeol’s touch disappears, fumbling to tear open the package of the condom. He tosses it to the ground, pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it onto his hard length. Kyungsoo realizes, belatedly, that Chanyeol’s hands are shaking slightly as he tears open the lube, slicking his fingers quickly. 

Kyungsoo lets out a filthy moan when the first finger presses inside of him, sinking easily to the third knuckle. He doesn’t know if he can ever get enough of Chanyeol’s fingers, so much bigger and thicker than his own. He already feels like he’s on edge, aches for Chanyeol to fuck him hard enough that he won’t be able to walk for a week. “More,” he gasps out, pressing the heel of his foot into the back of Chanyeol’s thigh.

Chanyeol listens, pressing in a second finger slowly. Sparks of pleasure burns inside of him at the slow drag of Chanyeol’s fingers, his eyes falling shut from the effort of trying to muffle his moans. Kyungsoo’s fingers dig into Chanyeol’s shoulders as his mind blanks out, unable to think of anything but the stretch of Chanyeol’s fingers inside of him. He bites down on his lip, but when Chanyeol curls his fingers, finding his prostate, a strangled sound escapes from him.

“Keep moaning like that and you’ll wake up the whole house,” Chanyeol whispers in his ears, repeating the action. Kyungsoo shudders, moans, tossing his head as he grinds back onto the fingers. Pleasure tears through his body. It shouldn’t -- he knows it shouldn’t -- but his knees go weak at the reminder that anyone could catch them right now, if they so happened to head downstairs to the living room and looked through the glass patio door. Anyone would see the wanton way Kyungsoo is pressed up against the glass, getting fingered open by the pool boy they hired three months ago. 

His fingers pull out briefly to tease at his rim, before he plunges back in with three fingers. Kyungsoo arches his back with a loud cry when Chanyeol scissors his fingers, careful not to graze against his prostate this time, the horrible tease. He knows it’s not in an effort to keep them both quiet, but rather, to drive Kyungsoo mad with pleasure. His insides feel like they’re melting, his entire body on edge, a live-wire set off by Chanyeol’s very touch. He’s desperate for him, needs Chanyeol deeper inside of him, closer. 

Kyungsoo’s hands slide up to tug at Chanyeol’s hair, drawing a moan from the taller man from the sting. “Fuck me,  _ fuck me _ ,” Kyungsoo moans, desperate and needy. He reaches for Chanyeol’s cock again, stroking his hard length despite the slightly awkward angle. Chanyeol’s eyes fall shut as he hisses in pleasure, before he bats Kyungsoo’s hand away despite Kyungsoo’s disappointed whine.

But then Chanyeol slides his hands under his thighs again, and then he’s lifting Kyungsoo off his feet entirely like it’s nothing. With a surprised gasp, Kyungsoo quickly throws his other hand around Chanyeol’s neck to keep his balance. His legs wind around Chanyeol’s waist, his back meeting the cool glass door behind him.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo moans out as he clings tightly to Chanyeol, amazed by how effortlessly he’s able to hold up Kyungsoo’s weight with only the help of the patio door to prop him up against. The moan turns into a punched-out whine when the thick length of his cock rubs against his entrance, flirting with his rim until Kyungsoo lets out another desperate gasp. 

“Fuck me-- ah--  _ ahh _ \--” Kyungsoo’s mouth falls open as Chanyeol eases Kyungsoo onto the first few inches of his cock, his head falling against the door as a wave of intense pleasure racks through his body. It feels bigger than usual, splitting him open as Chanyeol fills him where he’s aching most. He feels a deep hunger core his insides, his hands scrabbling for grip at Chanyeol’s shoulders as he tries to fuck himself down on his length. 

Chanyeol lets out a deep groan, his hands squeezing around Kyungsoo, as he tries to hold him still, fingertips rubbing soothing patterns into Kyungsoo’s skin as he lets Kyungsoo adjust to the stretch. The slight burn only makes his head swim with pleasure, and instead, Kyungsoo presses one palm against the glass pane, uses it as leverage to rock down on Chanyeol’s cock, taking him in a deeper a few more inches. Chanyeol’s jaw falls open in a moan as Kyungsoo fucks himself on Chanyeol’s cock, only managing a few inches from their position. It feels like he’s teasing himself, and he lets out a frustrated whine. 

It spurs Chanyeol into action at last. Clutching his hands tightly around Kyungsoo, he slowly draws out. Kyungsoo’s nails bite crescent marks into Chanyeol’s shoulders, feeling like he nearly can’t breathe, before Chanyeol slams immediately back inside. This time, he buries himself to the hilt in one smooth glide, feels his tight walls giving around Chanyeol’s girth like he’s meant to be there, to be slotted inside of him like this-- and Kyungsoo  _ wails _ . He feels so fucking full, his head swims with heady pleasure, lost entirely in the sensation of Chanyeol buried deep inside of him. 

A hand trails down his back, smoothing over his vertebrae, before grabbing the round swell of his ass, holding Kyungsoo open as he rocks his hips, drawing his cock out before thrusting back in. Kyungsoo lets out a breathless noise, and then he feels Chanyeol’s other hand on his face, his thumb tracing along his cheek. 

“I’ll make you feel good, Kyungsoo-hyung,” Chanyeol breathes out, and then he’s drawing Kyungsoo into a kiss, strangely soft despite it all. Then, without any further warning, Chanyeol draws all the way out before slamming back into Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo cries out freely, all thoughts of being quiet now gone from his mind as pleasure ripples through his body. The only thing he can think of is Chanyeol. He moans louder as Chanyeol fucks him with a relentless pace, his hips pistoning as he drives into him. “A-Ah, fuck, Chanyeol, Chanyeol--” Kyungsoo gasps, his head hitting the glass behind him again. It barely registers, Chanyeol is fucking him so hard, so deep that every thrust has his legs trembling where they’re clinging around Chanyeol’s waist. He feels boneless, would have fallen if Chanyeol wasn’t holding him up, as the relentless drag of Chanyeol’s cock inside of him drives him into ecstasy. 

The rest of the world falls away, unable to think of anything-- only feel, feel the way Chanyeol thrusts into him, hard and deep as they surrender to a rhythm that is perfectly unforgiving and bruising, just as Kyungsoo needs. 

“Oh god, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo moans again as he feels pleasure building in the base of his spine. He wishes he could hang off of Chanyeol’s cock forever, wishes he could keep himself spread open and wanting on his length. His head whirls with the fog of lust and desire, he’s losing his goddamn mind and he loves it, he loves it, he  _ loves-- _

The sight of Chanyeol is an amazing one, his hair messed with sex, sticking to his temples with wet strands as a flush spreading across his face and down his chest. His dark brown eyes are even darker with want, the smooth lines of his muscled chest covered with a sheen of sweat. His expression is lost to pleasure, the harshness of his own breath matching Kyungsoo’s own ragged exhale. 

He shifts his stance a little wider, and when he slams back inside of him, Kyungsoo cries out Chanyeol’s name. He moans louder and louder, his head banging against the glass as the door rattles in its frame from the force of his thrusts, each drag of his cock striking against the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision. His hips lose their rhythm when Kyungsoo clenches around him, his inner walls spasming and squeezing him from the inside as Kyungsoo starts to come apart. 

“Kyungsoo,  _ Kyungsoo _ ,” moans Chanyeol, as he quickens his pace, pounding into Kyungsoo with short, powerful thrusts. He feels Chanyeol’s hand wrap gently around the back of his head, tucking his face into his neck. It doesn’t muffle his noises, loud and plaintive, as each drag of Chanyeol’s cock glances against his prostate, driving broken moans from his lips as he clenches desperately around his length.

There’s nothing better than this. “Chanyeol-- ah, ah,  _ aah _ \--” He can’t keep quiet, not when he’s coming apart around Chanyeol like this. Chanyeol rocks into him with another powerful thrust, Kyungsoo’s moans growing higher, louder. There’s only pleasure, the sweet-hot delicious stretch of Chanyeol inside of him, Chanyeol around him, Chanyeol--

Heat explodes through him as Chanyeol thrusts hard enough for Kyungsoo to see stars, as the tight coil of pleasure suddenly unravels, rushing through his veins. It feels like all his nerves have been set on fire-- and Kyungsoo  _ screams _ as he seizes up and  _ comes _ . There’s no muffling his broken cry, especially not when Chanyeol fucks him through his own orgasm, a bruising grip on Kyungsoo’s hips as he spills into the condom with a loud, shuddering moan.

They stay like that for a few moments, breath harsh and ragged, trembling as he clutches onto Chanyeol’s shoulders as if he’s the only thing tethering him through the foggy post-orgasmic warmth. Long fingers stroke soothing circles into his bare hip as Chanyeol, with his other hand, combs through Kyungsoo’s sweaty hair. It takes a minute or two before, slowly, Chanyeol sets him down. Kyungsoo nearly collapses, his knees feeling like jelly.

Pressed up against the door to keep his balance, Chanyeol cups his face, strangely tender, before pulling him into a breathless kiss. He pulls back, just as tenderly, leaving Kyungsoo gasping against him. Silently, Chanyeol pulls away, bending to pick up his carelessly discarded clothing. Kyungsoo’s fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach out, but he doesn’t. He never does-- he doesn’t have any right to, not when they’re not anything  _ more _ to each other. 

But somehow, with the darkness now fully setting in, the house feels even more silent, even more vast in all the ways that Kyungsoo once used to marvel at, and now despises. Before he lets himself think and falter, Kyungsoo clears his throat. “Stay the night?” he says, the words falling from his mouth all clumsy and crooked, but somehow sounding right all the same. 

In the quiet, Chanyeol looks at him with a strange look. His heart pounds, an unsteady rhythm against his chest. Kyungsoo swallows around the lump in his throat, as he steps forward, abruptly self-conscious of his own nudity. He lifts his hand, but before he can fully extend it to Chanyeol, the taller man reaches out to him, tangling their fingers together. 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, still studying Kyungsoo with the same strange expression. It feels-- almost forlorn. “If you’ll have me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! if you haven't already, please look at [rie's comic strip](https://twitter.com/riendrope/status/1251918623129563138) for this au! we have also expanded this story far beyond what we've shown in either of our work so don't hesitate to talk to us about it :')))
> 
> a huge thank you to r, who is ever patient and let me rant about writing smut way too emotionally! thank you to phin, who reassured me that i could write kyungsoo as nipply as i wanted! thank you to _ate_ rie for coining "melanchorny"! and the biggest thank you to rie, who metaphorically holds my hand through everyything and is my greatest creative partner!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/igbtksoo) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/lgbtksoo)


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